


blood, sweat and beer

by emmared



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Dom!pat, M/M, PWP, Public Sex, masochist!jonny, one word prompt - sweat, tequila shots always lead to sex, theres actually no blood but definitely sweat and beer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-07 01:40:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11048640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmared/pseuds/emmared
Summary: Jonny's breath was hot on the back of Pat’s neck, adding to the collective sweat from the heat of the bar and the unseasonably warm Chicago summer. In this moment it was easy to pretend they were the only ones in the building, tension consuming them like a heavy fog.If they didn’t leave soon, Pat was going to take him right on the bar.





	blood, sweat and beer

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't sleep last night so I just wrote whatever came to mind, somehow it ended up being masochist!jonny and Dom!pat.
> 
> I used 'sweat' as my one word prompt.
> 
> Big thanks to my wonderful beta who was able to get this back to me quick and better than before!
> 
> Also, thank you to the wonderful people who created this Fic Fest, can't wait for the next challenge!

Jonny’s been teasing him all night, from the way he’d been practically sitting on his lap in the booth, to leaning over the bar unnecessarily to show off his well-endowed behind. Pat’s had an erection since they got here is what he’s getting at. He’s had to sit in the booth with the guys, pretending everything's cool, while Jonny’s out on the dance floor grinding with whatever girl he sees. _Everything is not cool_. Pat gripped the beer in front of him tighter and downed the rest.

“Easy Peeks,” Sharpy chirped from across the table, raising his eyebrows at the determined look he knew was plastered over his face. 

“I need another, you?” Pat asks, discretely adjusting himself in his pants before rising from the booth. Sharpy waved him off, turning instead to talk to Crow. Pat made a beeline for the bar, ignoring the people around him in favour of staring at the bartender to place his order. “Another Sleeman,” He requested when the guy finally got to him. A large hand settled on the small of his back but he didn’t need to turn to know who it was, a waft of the mint undertone of his Bleu de Chanel hitting Pat instantly.

“And two shots of Don Julio,” Jonny rasped, sounding winded and gritty, sending sparks straight to Pat’s groin. The man looked to Pat for confirmation, to which he nodded, before turning to the hot mess that is his boyfriend.

“Don Julio? Is Patron not good enough for you?” Pat teased, pressing himself against Jonny’s front, smirking at the stiffness he found. If they didn’t leave soon, Pat was going to take him right on the bar. 

“What can I say? I have expensive taste.” His breath was hot on the back of Pat’s neck, adding to the collective sweat from the heat of the bar and the unseasonably warm Chicago summer. In this moment it was easy to pretend they were the only ones in the building, tension consuming them like a heavy fog. The bartender returned with the drinks and Pat handed him some bills, pushing a shot in Jonny’s direction, who was already grabbing the salt. Taking a sip from his beer, Pat paused as the sound of the salt shaking in the container rang close to his ear, the grains landing on his neck. 

“Sorry, my hands are full,” Jonny murmured, not sounding apologetic in the slightest, his free hand squeezing Pat’s hip. With his other, he grabbed a shot and clicked it to Pat’s which was still resting on the bar. 

Without warning, his tongue was on Pat’s neck, slowly, painfully so, following the trail of salt and sweat along his pulse. When he reached his hairline, Jonny pulled away and tipped his glass back, using that sinful tongue to catch any drop of alcohol left on his lips. 

Pat clutched his, tossing it back so quickly the liquor barely had time to singe his tongue with the tell-tale burn of tequila. Abandoning his beer at the bar, he quickly turned around and made his way to the hallway and ducked into the bathroom. Once alone he leaned back against the wall, shut his eyes and took some deep breaths to attempt to calm his alarmingly fast heart rate.

He just regained control when the door pushed open and Jonny appeared, worry etched on his face. “Hey Pat, are you okay?” The question had barely left his lips before Pat pushed him back against the door, capturing them with his own. The gasp Jonny released enabled Pat to shove his tongue into his mouth, the taste of salt mixed with his own sweat lingering enough to make him groan.

“You little cock tease,” Pat spat, reaching to lock the door before unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down, wrapping his hand around Jonny firmly. “You think it’s fun to present to me like a bitch in heat?” He followed with a hard tug, watching Jonny bite into his bottom lip as he stared at him, pupils blown wide with lust. Pat dropped heavily to his knees, the adrenaline coursing through his veins numbing any pain from the impact.

Using his hand, he began to jerk him roughly, the friction burning his palm even with the precome already leaking steadily from the reddened tip. Jonny hissed at the chafe but didn’t pull away, gladly accepting the punishment for his actions. 

“You like it when I’m rough, don’t you?” 

Jonny nodded frantically, the plea in his eyes evident. 

“Use your words, Jonathan,” Pat chided, squeezing him tightly in return.

“ _God yes_ ,” Jonny choked out, sound wrecked already. Pat sunk his teeth into the meat of his thigh as a reward, basking in the moan that forced itself out of Jonny’s throat. 

Without any warning, Pat took all of him into his mouth, nose pressing flush with his pelvic bone. He swallowed twice, constricting his throat around him, before pulling back slowly while letting his teeth graze Jonny teasingly. 

“I’m not gonna last like this,” Jonny admitted through clenched teeth, struggling to compose himself, but Pat was having none of that. He swirled his tongue around the tip like a lollipop, salt exploding on his taste buds as he toyed his way up and down the slit. Jonny gripped at his hair as he bobbed back down, sucking with vigor and cradling his balls. A brief tug of warning was all he got before Jonny let out a moan and came hard, filling his mouth. 

Instead of swallowing, Pat stuck two fingers in his mouth, coating them thoroughly with spunk, before pulling them out, strings of spit and semen trailing behind. Jonny watched with hooded eyes as Pat swallowed purposefully, tongue darting across his lips afterward for good measure. 

“Bend over the sink,” Pat ordered, using his clean hand to pull his neglected erection free from his shorts. Jonny’s entrance being relaxed from his orgasm made it easy for Pat to push a single finger in, moving around exploratively without rush. The whine Jonny released made him chuckle, “What would the guys say if they knew how wrecked you look right now, begging for me to take you?” 

Pat didn’t give him a chance to answer, slipping in another digit and pressing firmly on the bundle of nerves he found. Scissoring his fingers met him with a little resistance, but he applied more pressure as he moved around, coaxing the muscles into submission. Keeping up with the motions, he turned to his own cock, spreading the precome to the best of his abilities. He toyed briefly with the idea of using hand soap as lube, but decided against it, instead spitting into his palm and coating himself with it.

He lined up, pausing slightly, before shoving in completely to the hilt. Jonny grunted at the intrusion, clenching tightly before adjusting to the size. Pat waited patiently, lulling him into a false sense of security before snapping his hips in a quick, powerful, thrust. 

He continued with the rough pace, the sound of his balls slapping against ass cheeks mixing with Jonny’s grunts creating the sweetest symphony. Before long Jonny began pushing back, forcing him to go deeper, harder. Pat’s thrusts grew sloppy as his balls tightened, a strangled moan escaped as he pushed in as far as he could, releasing into the depths of Jonny’s ass.

Pat stilled for a moment to ride the waves of his orgasm, before slowly pulling out. He watched his come leak out of Jonny’s abused hole, admiring his handiwork. Eventually, he turned and grabbed some toilet paper, wiping Jonny carefully before giving himself a good clean. Once they both had their pants back on Pat made for the door, but a tug on his wrist pulled him back and into Jonny’s chest. 

“Hold on, you’ve got a little something,” Jonny spoke softly, raising his thumb to swipe underneath Pat’s lips. He pulled back to reveal a dot of his own come that must have dribbled out at some point. Pat’s eyes tracked the movement of Jonny’s thumb all the way until he sucked it into his own mouth, deliberately tasting himself. His cock gave an interested twitch, but his orgasm was still too fresh to have him getting hard again.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”


End file.
